


Rockabye, Baby, Don't You Cry

by bejesusness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent John Winchester, Episode: s07e13 The Slice Girls, Fix-It, Gen, Parental Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bejesusness/pseuds/bejesusness
Summary: In theory, tracking down monsters, killing them, and saving people was a simple concept. Dean had been doing it all his life. But when the monster is a young girl who also happens to be his daughter? That's when it gets complicated.
Relationships: Emma (Supernatural: Slice Girls) & Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Rockabye, Baby, Don't You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> first fic of the year and it's supernatural! who'da thought?

In his hands, Dean held his gun, pointed at the teen girl in front of him. To an outsider, it would look pretty bad on his part, but even without the machete the girl had raised in front of her, Dean was certain she’d be able to shred him to pieces. Some days, he really hated his job, and today, after being visited by a daughter he didn’t have three days ago who was here to kill him? Was looking to be one of those days.

“Look, Emma,” Dean said, against his better instincts, trying to reason with her, “I know all that you said before was a bunch of BS to get me to let my guard down. But you  _ don’t _ have to do this. You haven’t killed anyone yet. You can still walk away.”

Dean knew he wasn’t just trying to save her life. He was trying to get her to betray her whole clan. But Dean knew the spark he saw in her eye. It was the look of a kid who was stuck at a crossroads between doing what you were told and doing what was right. He’d seen that exact look reflected back at him in his own gun all the time when he was stuck studying at the John Winchester School of Hunting. And too many times had he chosen the wrong road. 

“No, Dean, I can’t. Even if I wanted to I-” Emma cut herself off and pursed her lips, as if to keep the traitorous thoughts from coming out. “This is all I know. The Amazons? If I don’t kill you… They would never let me walk out of here alive. And my mom… They’re my family.”

“They don’t have to be.” Dean carefully raised his hands in a gesture of peace, gun pointing to the ceiling, and made a show of clicking the safety back on. Emma kept her machete up as a barrier between them. “Emma,” Dean continued, “Family isn’t something that’s conditional. Family is people who care about you no matter what choices you make. And people who care about you don’t force you into something you don’t wanna do. And I don’t think you wanna do this.”

Emma scoffed. “How can you say that to me? You don’t know me. You don’t _ care _ about me. You  _ just met me _ .”

“I know, Emma. But-” Dean cut himself as he noticed Sam slinking from the front door into the motel room, his gun pointed straight at Emma. “Sam. No.”

Emma spun around to face Sam and raised her machete again in front of her, and despite the threat in her stance and the blaze in her eyes, she unconsciously took a step back. Away from Sam, and as it was, toward Dean. He tried to see it at the coincidence that it was.

Sam looked between Dean and Emma, searching for some explanation. He didn’t find one. “What do you mean, no?” Sam asked, still targeting Emma.

Dean stepped around her, slowly, so as not to spook her and end up with a knife in his back, until he stood in front of her, blocking any possible bullet trajectories should Sam choose to fire. “I mean no,” Dean stressed. “I’m not letting you kill her.”

Sam’s face scrunched up in a flurry of emotions. “Dean, she’s here to kill you.” 

“I know,” Dean stated calmly. “Can we put the guns away, please?” He tucked his own away into the waistband of his pants.

Sam finally lowered his weapon, though he kept it ready at his side. “Well then what’s the problem? She’s a monster.” 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, “well, she’s never killed anyone so right now she’s got us both beat.”

“She hasn’t killed  _ yet _ ,” Sam corrected with an accompanying eyebrow raise.

“Innocent until proven guilty, Sam.” 

Sam let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, is that right? Tell me, Dean. Where exactly was that principle when you went after Amy?”

“Amy killed.”

“To save her kid. It was an extenuating circumstance.” 

Dean would have rolled his eyes if it didn’t mean taking his eyes off Sam for half a second. He knew that half a second was enough for Sam to get the upper hand on whatever he was hunting. “You know,” he said instead, “I thought we were over this.”

“We were!” Sam cried. “Until you decided to be a hypocrite.”

“A hypocrite?” 

Sam glanced purposefully behind Dean. “Do we have to do this right now?”

Dean made a point of not turning to look behind him. He stood his ground and crossed his arms for good measure. He was just in that kind of mood. “Yeah, I think we do.”

Sam sighed. “Every other time you shoot first, don’t bother with the questions. Any time we’ve ever come across a monster who might make the right choice, I always had to beg you not to stab, shoot, or behead on sight. Like, remember Maddison?”

“Maddison…” Dean took a moment to shuffle through the memories of his past seven (earthly) years and connected a face to the name. “Werewolf girl?” 

Sam nodded.

“She was dangerous, Sam!” 

“I know. That’s not the point.” 

“Then what is? You have terrible taste in women? Old news. And not my fault.”

Sam took a breath to steady himself. He felt the weight of the gun still in his hand and safetied it, tucking it away for now. If things were about to get heated, years on the road in tight quarters with his brother have taught him it’s best not to have any live weapons directly involved in sibling drama. “What I’m trying to say is,” Sam explained, “I remember her because she was… We were… That one left a mark on me, okay? But how many other times have we given a creature a chance? Tell me, Dean, how many of them did we end up killing anyway? That rougarou? Lenore? Even Cas turned on us in the end.”

Dean’s eyebrows took on a dangerous angle as he spat through his teeth, “You leave Cas the hell out of this!”

Sam immediately backtracked, “Okay. Sorry.” He had to persuade Dean to see reason. He should have known better than to bring up Cas. The angel was a touchy subject on a good day, but now that he was dead? Well, lately there haven’t been many good days, period. Sam continued more gently, “But you know what I mean. You’re the one who’s always saying a monster is a monster. You’re the one who kills anything not human regardless of their history or motivation. And you’re right. Past experience always backs you up on that. But now? This? You know she’s not really your daughter, right? You don’t need to feel guilty or whatever this is. It’s not your fault and you don’t owe her anything.”

Dean raised his head and stood defiant as ever. “Yeah, actually,” he mused, “the way I see it? She  _ is _ my kid. Doesn’t matter how. Doesn’t matter why. But she’s askin’ for help. And you better believe I’m gonna help her.”

“Help?” Sam scoffed. “That was a trick! She’ll kill you, Dean. I’m just trying to help you. You see that, right?”

And Dean wondered how long Sam was there behind the door before he revealed himself. Because if he heard that whole conversation —if he hasn’t shot yet?— he must still have doubts. And Dean could still get through to him.

“If you’ve been paying attention,” Dean said, “we’ve been arguing this whole time and she hasn’t made one move against me. Why do you think that is?” Dean stepped to the side the slightest bit, just enough so Sam could look Emma in the eyes, but Sam didn’t bother. “Better yet,” Dean continued anyway, gesturing behind him, “why don’t you ask her yourself what she wants?” 

“Because it wouldn’t matter!” Sam cried. “She’s just going to lie and tell you whatever you want to hear so you don’t kill her. Then when you let your guard down-”

“Emma, what do you want?” Dean turned his head abruptly to look at her. 

She simply blinked, startled by her sudden involvement in the argument.

“Do you want a fight to the death?” he asked her, pointing out the machete, still clutched tightly at her side out of instinct if not intent. “Cause if you do, fine. We can settle this right now. You can die with your Amazon honor intact. One on one. Hand to hand. Whatever it takes.” Dean turned to fully face her and waited until he caught her eyes before he continued. “Or you can walk away. No killing. From  _ either side _ ,” He emphasized for Sam’s benefit, knowing he was listening almost as intently as Emma was. “No strings attached. I won’t force you to come with us, but you’re welcome to.”

Emma scoffed.

“You’re welcome to,” Dean emphasized. “At least until you figure out what you wanna do next.”

Emma stared back at him. She was clearly trying to keep her face neutral, but there was something in the roundness of her eyes, the slight wobble of a lip that made Dean think she was seriously considering his offer. “I… Really?” she asked. “You would take me with you?”

Dean nodded. “I would. I will, if that’s what you want.”

“Come on, Dean,” Sam scolded from across the room. “You can’t be serious.”

“So?” Dean asked, ignoring his brother. “What’ll it be, kiddo?” Emma glanced past Dean. “Don’t worry what Sam thinks. This is your decision to make.”

Emma looked back and forth between Dean’s sharp features and the comforting blade of her weapon. After a moment, she took a breath, raised her machete, switched her grip on it, and sheathed it into the soft flesh of the dirty mattress beside her. She looked back up at Dean and saw him smiling softly. She felt her own lip curl the slightest bit upwards, completely against her will. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Dean turned back around to face Sam, challenging him with his eyebrows alone. When Sam just stood there, silent, Dean said, “Look, I say we give her a chance. I’ll take full responsibility. If she turns out to be Callisto, fine. I’ll handle it myself. But she could just as well be Xena. Gabrielle, even.” 

“ _ Dean _ ,” Sam warned.

“I mean it, Sammy. I am serious about this.”

Sam sat on the bed nearest him. Then stood immediately back up. He made about five other abortive gestures before he was able to force any more words out of his mouth. “What’s this really about?” he asked. “Ben and Lisa? Is it Cas and Bobby? Are you so suicidal you’re just hoping something will kill you?”

Dean pulled back as if he’d been slapped. “I’m not- … This isn’t about that.”

“Then what?” Sam asked, throwing his arms up in the air. “‘Cause there’s something wrong. Obviously, you aren’t thinking clearly.” He paused as a frown settled across his face. “…This isn’t about our childhood, is it?” 

“What, did you take Intro to Psych back at Stanford?” Dean scowled, voice raising as he went on. “And now you’re gonna cite daddy issues? You know what? Screw you.”

“Then explain what this is to me, Dean, because I don’t get it!” 

Both brothers just stared at each other for a moment before Dean continued, with even more emotion than before, “I don’t know, maybe you’re right! Our dad was a bastard. He was never around when it mattered and when he was, he never gave a shit. Oh, and the things he did, Sammy? The things you’ll  _ never _ know about?  _ Unforgivable _ . And yeah, I can see that, now. And I’m trying to come to terms with all of it. And I’d have been screwed if I didn’t have Bobby.

“He was more of a father to me, to both of us, than Dad ever was. And he was right, y’know. Family ain’t blood. It’s who you choose to care about. Now I wasn’t planning on Emma, but I know what it’s like to have a shitty father and I’m not gonna be that for her. I’m choosing her, Sam. I’m giving her a chance for a better life than mine. And if you can’t accept that, I’m sorry but you can just choose a different brother. Because I’m not giving up on her. I can’t.”

“Unbelievable,” Sam spat. “After everything,  _ everything  _ we’ve been through, you’re going to choose a monster you just met over your own brother.”

Dean fought down a biting remark about Ruby. It would only make the situation worse. And he really didn’t want to compare his as of yet peaceful —if one uses the term loosely— daughter to Sam’s literal demonspawn ex who tried to cover the earth in hellfire. Instead, he spoke the simplest truth. “I would have liked to have kept both of you.”

“No,” Sam said. “If you’re going to play house with a literal monster, then I’m out.”

And finally, Dean had had it. “You know what? Speaking of everything we’ve been through, do you remember when you were having those psychic visions? And drinking demon blood? And exorcising demons with the friggin force? And setting the apocalypse —the actual biblical apocalypse— into motion? Remember how every other hunter we came across wanted to kill you? And do you remember who stood up for you? Who protected you? Who was always there for you? The one time I ask for something in return, the one time I ask for help. You’re really gonna walk out on me?”

“I gotta draw the line somewhere, Dean.”

An ugly, twisted laugh escaped Dean’s lips. “Are you kidding me? Bleeding heart, monster-lover Sam Winchester can’t find it in his heart to give a shit about a little girl? Did you lose track of your soul again while I wasn’t looking?”

Sam sighed. He hefted his duffle bag onto his shoulder. “If you’re dead set on this, fine. Apparently, I can’t change your mind. Call me when she tries to stab you in your sleep. Otherwise? I guess this is goodbye.” He pulled the keys to the Impala out of his pocket and tossed them to Dean. Dean stared at them blankly as Sam walked out the door.

“Sam,” Dean pleaded to the air where his brother had just stood moments ago. “Sam!” he called to the closed door in front of him. “Sam!” he mourned as the guilt began to settle in his chest. Then he heard a shaky breath behind him and returned to the present, to the little girl who needed him. 

⁂

Dean sat in the driver’s seat of his parked car, staring blankly out the windshield. A girl who was somehow both days old and a teenager and who he was sure could kill him with her bare hands was sitting shotgun. He wondered if he made the right decision. He wondered if there  _ was  _ a right decision. He wondered what the hell he was supposed to do next.

“Fuck,” he swore softly. Emma heard him anyway. 

“Having second thoughts already?” she asked.

He looked over at her and tried to force a small smile. “No, it’s not that,” he said. “I just. Normally something like this happens? I go to Bobby’s. But Bobby’s dead and his house burnt down and there’s nothing left there. Second? Call Cas. But he’s- …” Dean trailed off, unable to finish that thought. Unable to even think it. “I mean, I could always go to the library but I don’t think this sort of situation is covered in your typical parenting book,” he tried to joke, but it fell utterly flat.

The silence prevailed for a few seconds until Emma finally broke it. “You said Bobby was your dad, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was,” Dean confirmed, his hand unconsciously moving to the flask he kept in his pocket as a memento of the old man. 

“And Cas?”

“Cas is… was… he’s important. To me.”

“And you…” Emma paused to remember the exact wording Dean used earlier, “chose him?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Bobby, too.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And me?”

“Yes, Emma. And you.”

“Why?”

Dean turned his focus toward the girl. “What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, Sam was right. You don’t owe me anything. I was going to kill you.”

“Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. The important part is that you didn’t. I think that counts for something.” Dean buckled his seatbelt and reminded Emma to do the same. He turned on the radio and smiled. “Now what do you say we drive a couple hundred miles then stop at a Walmart and get you some essentials. Whatever you like.”

Dean pulled out of the parking lot towards the highway. He thought again about Amy. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed her. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed half the monsters he’s killed. Maybe the monsters weren’t all  _ monsters _ . Maybe hunters are no better than the things they hunt. Maybe they just had stronger weapons and bigger vendettas.

Maybe Sam would come back. Maybe one day he’d be able to forgive Dean. Maybe one day Dean would even be able to forgive himself.

Maybe now wasn’t the best time for a midlife crisis. Dean stole a glance toward Emma from the corner of his eye. She was staring out the side window, head bobbing gently along to the radio. He couldn’t help a smile, a real smile, overtaking his face. He raised one child by himself. He could do it again. 

They would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> pop a kudos if you too get far too attached to minor characters who only show up like once and are promptly killed off <3


End file.
